


Strike-slip

by dreamkist



Category: Grace and Frankie (TV)
Genre: F/F, Family, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Geology, Heartfelt Conversations, People Change People
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 01:09:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12288057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamkist/pseuds/dreamkist
Summary: The only thing that is permanent is impermanence.





	Strike-slip

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BiffElderberry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiffElderberry/gifts).



Grace carried two cups out to the beach where Frankie sat on a cushion.  One contained tea for her, and the other held hot chocolate for Frankie.  The other woman’s familiar silhouette was stark against the evening sky.  Frankie looked up at Grace and took the proffered cup.

“Thanks, Grace,” she said and cupped the warm mug in her hands.  “Isn’t the ocean beautiful today?”

Frankie’s hair blew in the wind from the water.  Grace lowered herself to the other cushion and wrapped her sweater tighter around her body.

“It is lovely,” she agreed while she mentally listed all of the groceries she would need to get since Frankie was the one who had done the shopping.  All she seemed to have come back with was ice cream and marshmallows.

“Grace, sometimes I worry a calamity will befall this house.”

“Are you high?” she asked out of habit.  Although she really didn’t need to ask; it was a safe assumption to make.

Frankie gave her the side-eye but continued.  “Did you know reservoirs fill with water and then they drain, the process repeats over and over, and faults underneath can’t handle the pressure?  Cracks can form from the weight of the water, and water lubricates the faults.”

Grace watched the twilight sky.  These conversations could go anywhere, so she let Frankie speak.

“Faults are everywhere.  We build these things, Grace.  Dams, houses.  We build them like they’ll be here forever, but they won’t.  They won’t last.”

“I won’t last this conversation,” Grace quipped.

“I’m _trying_ to say something important here,” Frankie lightly snapped.

“Ok, continue,” she waved her hand for Frankie to go on.  “I wasn’t expecting a geology lesson.”

“Sea levels are rising, Grace.”

“Well, it is high tide,” Grace couldn’t help herself.

Frankie just exhaled loudly and continued.  “It’s silly to think anything is permanent.  The only thing that is permanent is impermanence.”

She rushed on before Grace could respond to that statement.  “What I’m trying to say is–I’m _glad_ things are temporary.  If they weren’t, I wouldn’t be here with you.”

Grace suddenly began to take the conversation seriously.  She was a little unsure how they had gotten from reservoirs to this, but that was Frankie for you.  Always making far too much sense in her convoluted way.  Surprisingly, Grace had come to appreciate this woman who was so different, so much more open and free, than she had ever been.  It was funny to think after all the years of her life it was at this stage that she finally felt like she was growing.

“The changes we’ve faced and gone through, Grace,” Frankie reached out and took her hand.  “I think we’re all the better for them.  I know **I** am.”

Grace smiled, touched, and squeezed her hand.  “I am too, Frankie.”

* * *

“Ok, Grace,” Frankie waved a joint around as she spoke.  In the other hand was one of their vibrator prototypes.  “Never have I ever gone bobsledding carrying an emergency supply of beer while holding a raccoon.”  She took a drag.

Grace rolled her eyes.  “This game isn’t going to work.  With you I’ll never get a drink.  This is the least I’ve had to drink in my life.”  She took a sip of her third martini anyway; it wasn’t like they were playing by the rules.

They had finished watching _Ray Donovan_ , and Frankie suggested “a game.”  It was dark and cool outside, the waves were noisily rolling in, but it was warm and comfortable inside.  Grace had that peaceful feeling of being completely relaxed–an unfamiliar sensation–as she sat by Frankie on the sofa.

“Alright, something less exciting,” she looked like she was in deep thought.  “I know!”  The vibrator was raised into the air.  “Never have I ever used one of our _excellent_ new vibrators on this sofa.”

“Well, I should hope not,” Grace muttered.

“You know, I think I should.  The energy here feels right.”

“What?” Grace looked alarmed.  “You’re not going to do it _now_ , are you?”

“First time for everything,” Frankie waggled her eyebrows.  “You know I’m open, Grace, so why not?”  She looked genuinely curious as to why that was an unacceptable idea.

A hundred reasons “why not” raced through Grace’s mind.

But she was so comfortable, and, really, what was so wrong with it?  She figured she had enough alcohol in her to let Frankie do it, and it wasn’t such a big deal – they _were_ best friends after all.

So Grace lifted her shoulders in a shrug and took a big gulp of her martini.

Happy, Frankie flipped the vibrator on.

* * *

Grace smiled to herself while she held the button down on the blender.  She and Frankie had sat outside the night before.  They had been cuddled together against the ocean wind while Frankie expounded on the influence of the constellations, and Grace had listened–content to be there with her.

Frankie closed the refrigerator and caught the smile on her face when she turned to the kitchen island.  She came closer and placed a kiss on Grace’s lips.

She pulled away and they gazed at each other.  And realized they had an audience.

Four confused faces were looking at them.

Frankie pursed her lips like she was going to say something, but nothing came out.

“Well,” Grace tried to think of something to say, but no words were forthcoming for her either, so they all stood there in awkward silence.  She tried to think of how to explain this new part of their relationship.

Then, thankfully, Frankie spoke, “See, children, after an earthquake you may think the earth will never be the same.  The plates have shifted violently out of place.  How can things ever be the same?”

“Oh, my Lord,” Grace said with mild exasperation.

Puzzled expressions met Frankie’s explanation, so she continued.

“But the plates that have been disturbed from the places they’ve been in for hundreds, thousands, who knows how many years, find a new groove to fit into.  They aren’t the same, and they don’t have to be.  Grace and I,” she looked at Grace who grabbed her hand without thinking, “we found a new way to fit together.”

There was a moment of silence before all hell broke loose.  All four kids started talking over each other.

“Wow.”

“Are you talking about sex, mom?  Because we really don’t need to get into that,” Bud said, shaking his head vigorously.

“Wow.”

“I–just–I don’t understand.”

“Oh, come on, who is really shocked by _any_ of this anymore?” Brianna loudly asked, interrupting the cacophony.  “Good for you, both of you.  Really,” she proclaimed and walked into the kitchen to set her bag of food down.

“Thank you, sweetie,” Frankie said to her.

The others looked unsure, but then they seemed to collectively decide to just deal with it, and followed Brianna’s lead, setting the food out.

Grace looked at Frankie, and they shared a happy smile while their kids plated food and insulted each other around them.

Grace figured plates did shift, and they did settle into new, sometimes wonderful, places.

And change wasn’t always a bad thing.


End file.
